


I Got Outsmarted by a Thirteen-Year-Old

by AltruisticSkittles



Series: Totally Not Despicable Dee [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, And Emile just wants to adopt a kid, Anxiety Attacks, Badass Remy, Blood, Bruises, Child Logan, Crime Boss Janus, Found Family, Gen, Good Noodle Emile, I don't know how to play poker so the scene is ripped from The Parent Trap, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Imprisonment, Logan is also a cunning little shit so there's that, Logic | Logan Sanders Needs a Hug, Remy has a potty mouth and no apology for it and neither do I, Threats of Violence, You will never meet Logan's parents but you're going to hate them anyway, so does janus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltruisticSkittles/pseuds/AltruisticSkittles
Summary: “Remy, it’s four in the fucking morning,” Janus growled. “Are you serious right now?”“Are you serious right now?” Remy shot back. “That kid, Logan, what the fuck was up with that?”Janus blinked stupidly. He descended the rest of the stairs. A yawn escaped his lips, and he stretched his arms over his head.“Remy, you told me you were fine with kidnapping the kid,” Janus grumbled.“Yeah, I was,” Remy snapped back, “but I don’t think I kidnapped him. I think I fucking rescued him.”
Series: Totally Not Despicable Dee [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771324
Comments: 57
Kudos: 583





	I Got Outsmarted by a Thirteen-Year-Old

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to the Evil Dad Janus adopts 5 kids series. This is just part 1 of the fun. I plan on writing several one-shots for this world. When they'll be finished, I don't know, but I've got a lot of ideas for this. Hopefully, nothing pulls me away from it haha.
> 
> The chapter warnings are in the tags, so if any of that squicks you out, best not head into these waters.

Remy read and reread the name printed on the paper. This couldn’t be right. He heard of this kid. What could a kid have possibly done to the boss that would’ve warranted his kidnapping? 

Logan Star, a thirteen-year-old prodigy child, was the next on Remy’s hit list, and Remy had no clue why. 

From what Remy saw in the papers and on Logan’s YouTube and Twitter pages, the kid was a genius. He was reading chapter books by the time he was four, and he was offering scientific solutions to problems even adults couldn’t fix. From the content of his tweets, he looked like a model citizen, never getting political or showing any connection to the crime boss whatsoever.

So, why was Janus interested in a kid prodigy?

Remy sighed and looked out his car window. Oh well. He didn’t make the rules; he just followed them. That’s what got him this far anyway.

After driving for 10 minutes, the car pulled off the road and parked across a polished white suburban home. It looked completely normal. The red rose bushes hugged the side of the house, and a neatly trimmed green lawn presented several birdbaths. Why so many, Remy would never know, but there couldn’t have been a dirty bird anywhere within the town.

Remy glanced at his car clock. 2:32 am. The streetlight above him flickered a bit, and Remy wondered if that was a signal to do his job. With a deep breath, Remy opened his car door and exited the vehicle.

Silent as a whisper, Remy traveled across the street and stopped in the shadow of the house. A dog barked in the distance as police sirens sounded. Remy prayed it wasn’t meant for him. He scooted along the backside of the house and found a window at his level. Using a tool to quietly slide it open, Remy entered the house and began his search. 

The kitchen, from what Remy could tell, looked painfully boring. Steel electronics everywhere. Not a cup out of place. Not a picture on the fridge. The tiled floor showed Remy’s reflection in the low light.

To his left was what Remy assumed was the dining room. A volcano stood on the table, as well as several other scientific objects Remy couldn’t be bothered to learn the names of. A camera stood at the opposite end of a blank wall. The table looked like it hadn’t been cleaned from the last filming session, baking soda dusting the floor and the scent of vinegar burning Remy’s nose. 

Remy steered clear of the dining room and headed toward the stairs of the second floor. To his surprise, the floor didn’t squeak. He took two stairs at a time, his heart pounding in his chest.

The second floor is where Remy started to get unnerved. People lived in this house, right? If so, why were there no family photos on the walls? Why weren’t there sounds of snoring from dear old parent bear? Why was nothing making a sound?

Remy chased the goosebumps from his arms. He held his breath and opened the first door to his right.

Remy noticed the bathroom first and the smell second. That was a very heavy scent of blood. Did someone have their period and forget to flush or something? No, there were stains on the sink and floor. Remy held his breath. With a thick swallow, Remy closed the bathroom door and took a deep breath.

From there, Remy traveled a little farther up the hallway. He opened the next door. 

This room looked a little more normal. It looked like a simple office. The computer blinked in the corner, an expensive one by the look of it, followed by several home equipment pieces for working out. The stench of sweat hung in the air, or maybe it was absorbed into the carpet. Remy was about to leave when he noticed a rather dark stain on the floor. He cautiously flipped on the light and took another deep breath in. Blood. Again. This one looked like bleach tried to erase its existence, but it was still there.

Remy turned off the light and closed the door. He shivered. What was going on in this house?

As Remy approached the next door, he found his first sign of life. A low hum could be heard above him. Must’ve been the air conditioning. A quiet turn of the door handle showed a master bedroom. The walls had all sorts of awards on it, all with Logan’s name on them. A YouTube diamond play button hung over the headboard, still addressed to Logan. The desk on the other side of the room had papers upon papers stacked upon them. The bed, surprisingly, was empty. Whoever lived in this room wasn't home.

Remy tiptoed inside the room. He picked up one of the papers. Oh, this is what his boss wanted. The paper in Remy’s hand said these people owed over 100K of unpaid debt in his boss’s name. Why would parents of a child prodigy YouTube star be this low on cash? Remy shrugged and put the paper back down. Come to think of it, where were Logan's parents? 

As Remy looked around, he noticed things that were probably not Logan's, like the closet full of huge women's shoes and the wardrobe full of adult-sized suits. A box of expensive jewelry sat next to a box of bullets. Remy opened one of the drawers up in curiosity and was horrified by a bloody knife. Next to it was a report card with straight A's- no there was one B. Remy almost didn't notice through the dark red thumbprint. 

Something about this house was starting to scare him, and Remy didn’t get scared easily.

Remy closed the door to the parent’s bedroom and let out a breath he didn’t know he held. From there, he went to the last room in the house. This had to be Logan’s room. Remy twisted the door handle and opened it.

A closet. The last room… was a closet? But that couldn't be right. Where was Logan then?

Remy took a step back. Maybe he had the wrong house. Wouldn’t be the first time he walked into the wrong people’s house and scared the accidental shit out of them. He paused. No, those plaques on the wall were definitely addressed to Logan Star. 

So, where was the kid?

Remy backed up, and something brushed the top of his head. He gasped and turned to strike whatever attacked him, teeth bared and hand on his gun. 

A string. 

Remy deadpanned. All that fuss over a string hanging from the ceiling. Remy sighed and looked up. The ceiling had a bolt across the top of it to keep it closed. Must’ve been an attic or a crawlspace or something like that. 

A stone of dread landed in Remy’s stomach, but he chased it away. No, that couldn’t be where Logan was.

Could it?

Remy steeled himself for anything and unlocked the bolt on the ceiling. A folded ladder gently swung down to greet him. Remy steadied the wood and crept up. The heat in the attic brought fresh sweat to Remy’s skin. The humming from earlier grew louder, and Remy realized that wasn’t the air conditioner at all, but what sounded like an electric fan.

Remy’s head surfaced through the ceiling hole. The attic had one window to light the space around him, an octagon window with a plus sign shaped bar running vertically and horizontally across it. Why Remy didn’t know. It looked like only a child could get through it, and even then, it was a three-story dropdown. Boxes scattered across the room filled with anything from old Christmas decorations to baby toys. The floor was made of hardwood, and the ceiling didn’t give Remy much room to stand, which considering Remy stood at five feet two inches, didn't give most people much room to stand at all. 

At the far side of the attic, the silhouette of someone laying on the floor came into view. The mattress didn’t have a box spring or a frame but instead laid on the dusty floor on its own. The electric fan pointed directly down at the person sweating through the summer heat. Not even a blanket covered them. Their back was turned to him.

Remy’s heart sunk. That better be a person these people kidnapped and stuck up here instead of Logan.

As Remy approached, his fear didn’t disappear. The kid looked just like the internet sensation. Remy avoided the glasses neatly folded on the floor so he wouldn’t break them. He gazed down at the kid for about a minute. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a sick joke. There was no way these people locked a thirteen-year-old in a hot basement with nothing but the bare essentials, was there?

Remy took the bag off his shoulders and gently set it on the floor. His heart pounded in his ears. He didn’t know if it was through excitement or anger at this point, and really, he couldn’t care right now. He pulled the cloth filled with chloroform out and chewed on his lip.

Three. Two. One.

Remy covered both Logan’s mouth and nose. Of course, Logan woke right up. The kid let out a startled cry and tried to squirm out of Remy’s grip, but Remy pressed his hand into Logan’s chest to stop him.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Remy tried to soothe, as he always did. “It’s gonna be over soon.”

Hands latched onto Remy’s arm, and fingernails scratched at Remy's leather jacket. Logan’s eyes glistened in the light of the moon. Logan kicked and squirmed, but Remy had the upper hand, literally. After a few minutes, Logan’s body succumbed to the chloroform at last, and Remy released the pressure on Logan’s chest and mouth.

Alright, the kid was unconscious. Now, how the hell was he supposed to get him out of here?

Remy groaned as he thought of picking up the kid. To his surprise though, Logan lifted easily in his arms. His breath caught as he counted every rib under his fingertips. Remy swallowed hard. Logan couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds, which was rather scary for a kid that stood at five feet six inches. Remy quietly appeased his mind by saying some people were naturally underweight but healthy, but the scenes he walked in on made him worry that wasn’t the case.

Remy slung Logan over his shoulder and crawled back down the wooden ladder. Step. By step. By painfully slow step. Remy made his way down the wood. Logan didn’t stir, and when Remy’s foot hit the bottom floor, he thanked anyone watching out for him that he didn’t drop Logan. From there, Remy switched Logan to his arms in a bridal style carry. 

It took no time at all to get Logan in the back of his car. He opened the back door and set Logan down in the seat.

The car light illuminated Logan’s situation perfectly. Logan’s arms, which Remy now realized were always covered in long sleeves during his videos, had deep brown handprints engraved into his skin. His neck, always pressed in a collar tied by a tie, housed choke marks. Remy couldn’t just feel Logan’s ribs, he could see them peeking out from under Logan’s loose white shirt too. 

Remy locked Logan’s seatbelt and closed the car door before he could get sick. He opened the driver’s side door and collapsed into his seat. For a moment, Remy stared at Logan’s reflection in his back mirror. He didn’t look away until the lights overhead turned off. Broken from his trance, Remy turned on the car and drove off towards their headquarters. Horrible thoughts passed Remy’s mind, but he sped by them each and every time. However, one question kept coming to his mind and burned in the back of his brain. 

Did Remy just kidnap this kid or rescue him?

* * *

When Remy arrived at the base, he still carried Logan’s sleeping form in his arms. People didn’t pay much mind to him. Remy carrying an unconscious body into headquarters was never anything new. However, the pure rage on his face made everyone naturally steer clear anyway. 

Remy spied his target. He stormed toward him, his teeth clenched and eyes glaring over the top of his sunglasses.

Emile turned just in time to have ninety pounds of unconscious child dropped into his arms.

“Remy, what-”

“Where’s Janus? I need to talk to him.”

Emile’s glasses slid down his nose a bit as he answered, “He should be asleep in his room. Why?”

Remy walked past, ignoring Emile calling after him. He did, however, order, “Get the kid some water and a fucking snack, would you?”

* * *

The office door to Janus’s room, which was under a strict “knock if you don’t want to get shot” rule, swung open with a loud bang. The desk was empty. Janus must’ve retired to his home above the office.

“Janus!” Remy shouted. “Janus, get the fuck down here. You and I need to have a chat.”

Shuffling above Remy’s head warned him of Janus’s presence. Remy heard Janus’s feet creeping down the stairs. 

“Remy, it’s four in the fucking morning,” Janus growled. “Are you serious right now?”

“Are you serious right now?” Remy shot back. “That kid, Logan, what the fuck was up with that?”

Janus blinked stupidly. He descended the rest of the stairs. A yawn escaped his lips, and he stretched his arms over his head. 

“Remy, you told me you were fine with kidnapping the kid,” Janus grumbled.

“Yeah, I was,” Remy snapped back, “but I don’t think I kidnapped him. I think I fucking rescued him.”

That woke Janus a little more. He studied Remy for any signs that Remy was joking but disappointedly met an uncharacteristic seriousness. Janus folded his arms.

“Explain.”

“Well, first off, the kid weighs like nothing. I swear, babe, he wouldn’t be a hundred pounds soaking wet. Anyway, I found the kid locked in a hot ass attic with bars on his window. Fucking bars! And that’s not even the best part. No, the best part is when I finally get the kid to my car, and it looks like someone beat him up before I could get there. The kid’s covered in bruises.”

Janus stayed silent though Remy’s angry tirade, his eyes wide and lips parted in surprise.

“And don’t even get me started on the fucking house. Oh, no, this house was just 100 percent bad vibes. There was blood all over the place, and it looked like no one lived in it at all, like it was a television set. The fuck is wrong with these people? Who are they? And how long before I can murder them?”

“Alright, Remy, calm down,” Janus ordered. His hands raised from his side to quell the fuming man in front of him. He gnawed on his lip and sighed through his nose. “You can’t murder them anyway until we get our money.”

“What?”

“You’ve kidnapped dozens of kids. You know how this works.”

“You mean after all this, you’re still willing to let the kid go back to that shithole?”

Janus hesitated. He watched Remy’s chest rise and fall as Remy took deep breaths through his nose. His lips were curled into a snarl, teeth bared and ready to bite. Janus hadn’t seen him this pissed since Remy walked in on Cass being raped.

After a long sigh, Janus said, “I’ll take a look at the kid in the morning. For now, let the poor thing rest. He’s had a rough night.”

“More like a rough fucking life,” Remy grumbled. He said a quick ‘night boss’ before exiting and slamming Janus’s office door closed a little harder than he intended to.

Janus stayed still for a moment. If what Remy said was true, it would be a miracle the Star family was alive to even be paying him back. Janus sighed and returned up the stairs. He put his eye mask back on, flipped over in his bed, and tried not to think too hard about the events that just unfolded.

He’d deal with this mess when he had a fresh cup of coffee.

* * *

Logan’s senses came back to him one by one. The first thing he noticed was how much his head hurt. He tossed over onto his side. The mattress below him was soft, way too soft, and the blanket over him felt smooth and cool like silk. His ears picked up on soft humming somewhere in the corner of the room. It sounded light and nurturing, like a lullaby on a stormy night. 

Logan blinked his eyes open. The blurry wall of a pink-painted bedroom greeted him. Logan’s chest hurt, but he knew that already. He gathered enough strength to roll onto his back. Pain erupted through his ribs, and Logan let out a soft moan.

The humming stopped, and Logan held his breath.

“Well, good morning there, kiddo,” a gentle voice, way too gentle to belong to either of his parents, greeted.

Logan’s head snapped to the side, and he regretted it in an instant. His head spun, and he squeezed his eyes closed to try and compensate.

“Hey, take it easy. I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice spoke again, soft like it was trying to comfort a startled animal.

“Who are you?” Logan asked. “Where am I?”

“My name is Emile, and you’re safe.”

Safe?

Logan opened his eyes once again. This person, Emile, held out Logan’s glasses to him. Logan blinked and put the glasses back on his face. The man in front of him had bright green eyes, pale freckled skin, and a smile that could melt butter. His hair was brown, except for the pink fluff of hair that pillowed his head, and his glasses were round like a grandfather’s. He wore a sweater vest and pink tie with blue and white stripes on it, and his soft pink dress shirt poked out of the top.

“Emile?” Logan questioned.

“That’s right. And you must be Logan Star.”

Logan’s heart pounded. The last part of Emile’s previous answer echoed in his mind. Safe. Someone broke into his house, kidnapped him, and called this safe? Logan sat up fast, but dizziness knocked him back into the wall beside him.

“Whoa, easy there champ. Take some deep breaths. Coming out of chloroform is never easy,” Emile coaxed. He passed a bottle of water over. “Here, drink this.”

“How do I know it isn’t poisoned?” Logan asked.

“That’s a pretty fair question. I can’t really tell you. You’re just going to have to trust me, kiddo.”

Logan eyed the water bottle, then Emile, then the bottle again. His throat begged for a drink, but Logan didn’t trust it. He retreated in on himself and swallowed hard.

“Alright, I get it,” Emile said. He put the bottle on the nightstand and nodded his head. “You don’t have to drink right now if you don’t want to. I’d be pretty scared too if I woke up in a strange place with no memory of how I got here.” 

Logan chose to say nothing and instead stared at Emile through the corner of his eye. Emile stood and went back to… whatever he was doing at his desk. His hand glided across a written book of records. Every once and awhile, he’d bring the pen up to nibble on the tip of it. 

Logan thought for a moment before he asked, “Why am I here?”

Emile’s head snapped up. He laughed, his shoulders shaking slightly, and responded, “I don’t really know. All I know is you were placed in my arms, and I was told to take care of you.”

“Take care of me? As in… kill me?”

“No!” Emile’s shout made Logan flinch. Emile lowered his voice and added, “No, Logan, I wasn’t asked to kill you. I was asked to get you something to drink and a snack.”

“Oh.”

Emile grabbed a small package of crackers on his desk, and he walked back toward Logan. Logan couldn’t help but press his back against the wall. Emile stopped at an arm’s distance and held out the package of food.

“It’s not much, but it’s still something.”

Logan eyed the package and then looked at Emile. “I’m allergic to peanut butter.”

“Oh! Well, I think we have other packages in the kitchen. What do you like better? Chives and onion or cheese?”

“Chives and onion will do.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

Emile exited the room. The door to his room closed, but the latch stopped it from closing all the way. It popped back open and left a crack to escape.

Logan jumped from the bed and peeked out the door. The hallway was long, way too long to belong to a home, and had tile flooring and plain white walls. Fluorescent lights flickered above him. Logan stepped onto the tile floor and shivered. His bare feet didn’t appreciate the cold, but he would have a better chance now of escaping than he would later.

Slowly, Logan traveled down the hall. His heart pounded in his chest. Where was he, and how did he find a phone to call for help?

No one passed him in the hall. Logan glanced at the watch on his wrist. Six in the morning. If he were home right now, he’d definitely be awake. Logan shuddered at the thought and kept going. Once he got out of here, he was going to run as far away from all this as he could, home and everything.

“Hey.”

Logan froze solid. He didn’t want to, but all his nerves locked up. Logan’s eyes darted around for a place to hide. He spied a door with a round handle and tried to open it.

“Hey!”

Locked. Of course it was locked. Logan turned around, his eyes wide with panic. As the person approached, Logan slid down the door, balled up into a fetal position and covered his head.

“I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me,” Logan begged.

“Shit, no, I wasn’t gonna- hey, kid, it’s okay. Fuck I ain’t- I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?”

Logan couldn’t relax enough to look up. When a hand pressed to his shoulder, he couldn’t stop the scream from tearing through his throat. The hand retracted like Logan burned it, thankfully, and for a moment, Logan tried to catch his breath. Tears blinded his vision.

“Hey, breathe, okay? You gotta, you got- shit I’m not good at this. Hey! Someone get Emile for me would ya?”

Logan heard more feet shuffling, as well as a language he couldn’t understand. French? Italian? Some kind of romantic language, he was sure. 

It was a few minutes before Logan was even able to relax enough to look up at the guy. Dark sunglasses, a leather jacket- this looked just like the guy he saw before he passed out. Logan leaned away as far as he could and curled in on himself tighter.

“Remy, what’s wrong?” Emile’s voice asked. A beat skipped before Emile whispered “oh” and more footsteps approached.

Logan couldn’t help the whimper in his throat. His body started to shake, even though there was no logical reason he should be afraid of either Remy or Emile right now. Well, other than Remy knocking him out, kidnapping him, and sticking him in this place.

Emile's voice coaxed, “Alright, Logan, I’m going to need you to look around and tell me some things you see.”

Logan couldn’t move his head from its locked position between his knees.

“Logan?”

“Can’t,” was all Logan could answer.

“Alright, how about some breathing exercises? In seven, hold four, out eight. Can you do that one?” 

Logan barely shook his head no. 

“Alright, would it help if Remy and I gave you some space?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Logan shook his head yes.

Logan heard feet moving away from him. He took a few deep breaths in to calm himself. Still shaking, Logan’s eyes slowly drifted up. Remy and Emile moved a good ten steps away from him and watched from a safe distance. Logan’s body didn’t stop shaking, but at least he could look up.

“Holy shit,” he heard Remy whisper. Remy’s mouth was pulled into a tight line, his fists visibly shaking. Logan couldn’t take his eyes off him. Remy continued, “I’m gonna kill them.”

Emile didn’t answer. Logan worried about what that meant for him, but he didn’t feel brave enough to ask. 

Emile’s voice guided him away. “Logan, we’re not going to hurt you. Why don’t we go back to my room, and we’ll talk over the pack of crackers, okay?”

Logan thought for a moment. He still didn’t know if he could trust either of them, but he was trapped. He couldn’t move to run, and he had no idea where he was or if he could even escape. 

Slowly, Logan nodded his head. Emile waited for Logan to stand, never making a move to touch or grab him. Neither did Remy. Logan could feel the anger rolling off Remy like a tidal wave, but he didn’t make any moves to hurt Logan at all. Logan still steered clear from the fuming man. 

Eventually, the trio made it back to Emile’s room. Remy and Emile shared a look of pity before Remy closed Emile’s door. 

“Why don’t you go have a seat on the bed,” Emile said. He held the pack of crackers out for Logan to take. 

Logan didn’t respond. Instead, he took the crackers, sat cross-legged on the bed, and stared at the package of food in his hands.

“Oh, and I didn’t know if you were still thirsty or not, but here,” Emile added on as he held out a box of juice. Logan curled up his nose. Emile lightly laughed and continued, “I’m sorry if apple isn’t your favorite. It was the last one we had in the fridge.”

Still, Logan took it. He tried to pace himself with the crackers, to not show how weak he was to hunger right now, but he had the whole package finished before Emile could start on his second cracker.

“When was the last time you ate?” Emile asked.

Instead of answering, Logan jabbed his straw into his juice box. He sucked on the straw until there was no more juice inside. His eyes darted around for a trash can, and he found one sitting by Emile’s desk. No way was he getting up that close.

Emile must’ve noticed because he grabbed the trash can. He held it in front of him, the top slightly leaning in Logan’s favor, and said “throw it.”

Logan eyed the garbage can, Emile, then the garbage can again. He crushed the juice box in his hand and gave it a throw. It missed. Badly. The juice box skittered across the floor and thunked against the wall well out of the garbage can’s reach. Logan’s ears burned with embarrassment.

“I’m not good at throwing,” Logan mumbled.

“Hey, that’s okay.” Emile got up and grabbed the empty box. It thunked into the garbage can, and Emile put the garbage back in its place. “I was never good at sports either.”

Logan crumbled the wrapper for the crackers in his hand. He knew throwing it wouldn’t make it anywhere close to the garbage can, and so did Emile because he never asked Logan to throw it. Instead, the two gentlemen sat and stared at each other. Emile swiveled back and forth on his computer chair, his teeth gnawing at his lip.

“Hey, you like cartoons at all?” Emile asked.

Logan sighed through his nose. There were a million answers he could give to that, but he mumbled, “I don’t.”

“Oh,” Emile said as his glasses slid down his nose a bit. He put them back. “That’s okay. What do you like?”

Logan thought for a moment. He glanced around Emile’s room, and his eyes landed on a colorful board game in the corner. It definitely wasn't chess, but it caught his interest somehow. Logan tried to speak, but his voice locked in his throat. Instead, he pointed.

Emile followed Logan’s signal, and a smile pulled on his lips. “You like board games?”

Logan nodded his head.

Emile stood from his computer chair, and Logan tried not to run. He stared at Emile as the older man grabbed the colorful board game and brushed it off.

“I haven’t played Candyland in forever,” Emile said, his eyes still on the game. He looked up at Logan. “Do you want to play on the floor or on the bed?”

“Floor,” Logan replied.

Emile started unpacking the game, and Logan watched as Emile shuffled cards and grabbed four pieces from the box.

“What color do you want to be? Do you want red, yellow, green, or blue?”

“Blue, please.”

Emile sighed through his nose. “Ah yes, blue. The color of the sky and the sea, open spaces, freedom, intuition, imagination, inspiration, and sensitivity. Also trust, loyalty, sincerity, wisdom, confidence, stability, faith, and intelligence.”

Logan could only blink at that. 

Emile put the blue piece at the start position. His fingers danced over the remaining colors. “What color should I be?”

Logan thought for a minute. Green, yellow, or red? After some quiet contemplation, Logan responded, “Yellow.”

Emile hummed. “Ah, yes, the color of sunshine, hope, and happiness. It’s kind of got a double meaning. On one hand, it’s intellect, honor, loyalty, and joy, but on the other, it represents cowardice, caution, sickness, and deceit. I’m guessing you don’t know what to think of me yet, do you?”

Logan shook his head no, his lips parted in shock. How had Emile been able to guess all that with just a color piece?

“Do you know how to play?” Emile asked. Logan shook his head no. “That’s okay. I’ll explain it to you.” 

Logan listened to Emile explaining piece by piece. It was a simple game of luck from what Logan could gather. No skill was needed at all. There were traps and tricks, but nothing that required any wit to get out of.

“And if you get to the top here first, you win,” Emile finished.

“What happens if I win?” Logan asked.

“What do you want to happen? Do you want to go home?” Logan flinched at the suggestion. Emile’s breath caught, and he continued to shuffle the card deck in his hands. “Home life wasn’t great, huh?”

Logan swallowed thickly and shook his head.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Emile coaxed. “I mean, my home life wasn’t exactly the best either, so I get it.”

Logan’s eyebrow popped up in interest. He didn’t want to pry, but the thought of someone knowing what he was going through interested him. If Emile wanted to continue that line of thought, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he placed the cards down on the floor and looked up at Logan expectantly.

Oh, right, if Logan wanted to play, he’d have to get closer.

“I can move you and draw cards for you if you don’t want to,” Emile offered.

Logan’s body relaxed, and he nodded his head.

“Okay, that’s okay. I’ll move you first.”

Emile drew card by card, letting Logan see the results every time. Logan’s eyes followed as Emile moved his piece without cheating. Eventually, Logan found himself on the floor against the bed. Then a little closer. And a little closer. His legs pressed up against the edge of the board. Emile made no move to grab or otherwise suggest he was going to hurt Logan at all.

When it was his turn, Logan drew a card from the deck. He spied the color he got. Red. Stop. Freeze. Run. Danger. His eyes popped up to Emile.

“So, what did you get, kiddo?” Emile asked.

“Red.”

“Oh, good! You’re almost at the top,” Emile informed. Logan looked down at the game. Only one more color and Logan would win. Emile continued, “Did you figure out what you wanted to win yet?”

Logan’s head popped back up. He watched Emile for a moment before he finally formed his answer. “I want to speak to your boss.”

Emile’s eyes widened. His glasses slipped down his nose a bit, and Emile pushed them back up. After some thought, he responded, “I can see if Janus would talk to you.”

Janus. The name rang a bell in Logan’s head, but he couldn’t place where. He watched Emile for a moment as Emile drew his own card. Emile moved his piece accordingly, and he waited for Logan to make his move. Logan drew. Purple. The last color.

“I win,” Logan said.

Emile laughed and slapped his hands onto his knees. “Way to go, kiddo! Do you want to play again?”

Logan stared blankly at him. Emile fidgeted in his spot. Logan answered, “We had a deal.”

“Right, uh, okay.” Emile’s shoulders shook. “I should’ve made you tell me what you wanted before we started to play.”

Logan’s courage surfaced, and he responded, “But you didn’t, and I won. I want to speak to your boss.”

Emile’s eyes warily observed Logan. After a moment, Emile sighed and stood. He dusted off his pants legs and said, “Alright, Logan, we can go see him.”

Logan was on his feet before he realized what happened. Emile’s light laugh of amusement followed him to the door. Logan spied the garbage can and dumped his discarded wrapper from his crackers inside the bin. Emile held the door open so Logan could leave first, and the two of them traveled down the long hallway.

From what Logan could tell, this looked just like a hotel. There were rooms with numbers on them, some locked and some ajar. Pictures and decorations hung on the wall. Some spiders made their homes in the corners, but other than that, there wasn’t a speck of dust around. A man mopped the floor with headphones in his ears, but he didn’t pay any mind to Emile or Logan.

Emile pressed the button for the elevator, and Logan watched the numbers descend. It hit the third floor, and the doors swung open. Emile went in first, and Logan followed. The star button lit up, and Logan waited for the elevator to rise. 

Three floors passed them before they reached the floor they wanted to.

When the doors opened, the sounds and sights of a busy office greeted them. A few people stopped their work to stare, some even said hello, and some continued as if this was a normal everyday thing. Surprisingly, Logan didn’t mind the attention. It was nothing like the pure idolization he got on the street. It was natural, normal, something he was very much not used to.

The door at the end of the hall had a glass window with the words “Janus Escamas” written on them. Logan swallowed. Emile knocked to the rhythm of “shave and a haircut” and waited.

“Enter,” the buzzer on the door answered.

Emile took one last glance at Logan before he swung the door open. He held the door, motioning for Logan to enter. Logan hesitated for a minute before his feet followed the orders.

The room inside had hardwood floors, white walls, and one window with blinds covering it. At least one plant housed every corner. Several pictures lined the walls, each with people that Logan didn’t recognize. A college certificate in business was next to a man receiving a diploma. The desk in the center was made of solid oak if Logan had to guess. A computer blocked the view of the person behind it, and a bag of chips rustled as the owner took a bite.

“Janus, there’s someone here to see you,” Emile announced. Logan felt all the courage drain from his body, but a gentle hand on his shoulder reminded him Emile was still there.

The man behind the computer stood. Logan felt bad, but his eyes immediately went to the burn scar covering the entire left side of the man’s face, as well as his neck. He had a bowler hat on, like what a villain from early cartoons would wear, a black suit, a white dress shirt with a yellow tie, and neatly pressed yellow gloves. As he walked toward them, Logan noticed his left eye was a lighter shade of brown than the other. 

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Logan Star,” this man, Janus, said.

Logan could only swallow and press his back into Emile’s stomach.

“Logan wanted to meet you,” Emile said for him.

“Did he now?” Janus said. His eyes traveled up and down Logan’s body, and for a moment, Logan worried Janus would hurt him. “I’m sure he has a lot of questions, like why he’s here and what I plan on doing to him.”

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it soon after.

“I’m sure you’re aware of your father’s gambling problem, aren’t you?”

Logan nodded his head.

“Well, your dear old father borrowed a lot of money from me to feed his addiction, and he’s taking his dear old time repaying me. I’m starting to get impatient. So, I’ve offered him a deal. If he wants his money-making son to come back and give him a paycheck, he’s going to pay me back the 3 million dollars he owes me.”

“Three million?” Logan’s lips floundered. “My father would-”

“Never borrow that much money?”

“Never pay that back,” Logan mumbled.

“He’ll pay it back if he wants you back.” Janus watched Logan for a reaction. “I mean, you are his only source of income, aren’t you?”

Logan’s head snapped up at that. Janus’s lips were pulled into a cutting line, his eyes cold but sympathetic. Logan lamely nodded his head, and he heard Emile mutter something in the same language he couldn’t understand.

Janus thought for a moment before he continued, “Well, then, if he wants to keep piggybacking off your success like the scum he is, he’ll pay to get you back.”

Logan opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked at the floor. Emile’s eyes went from Logan to Janus, and he sighed through his nose.

“You’re not seriously thinking about giving Logan back if this man makes the payment, are you?” Emile asked.

“Of course not.”

Logan’s head snapped up at that. A shriek of fear tore from his throat, and he backed up into Emile’s chest. Emile ran a hand through his hair, whispering sweet words.

Janus’s eyes met Logan once again, but this time, they were passionate. He announced, “I plan on turning him in for child abuse. He’s lucky I want my money back, or I’d do it right here and now. There’s no way the police would ignore a child star injured like this. What I’m wondering is: how did he get away with it for this long?”

The room silenced, and Logan realized they were both waiting for him to answer. Logan opened his mouth to breathe, but he couldn’t say anything.

“Logan, you don’t have to talk about anything you’re not ready to yet,” Emile coaxed. His feather-light touch on Logan’s shoulders rubbed up and down in a soothing motion. 

Janus nodded his head, and he continued, “I can imagine what you’ve gone through. Please know I mean you no harm. You’re safe here, Logan.”

And with that, Logan collapsed onto his knees. It startled both Emile and Janus, who moved toward him but stopped short. Logan covered his mouth as he began to cry, his whole body shaking. Whether it was from fear or relief, he didn’t know. 

Safe.

He was safe here.

They weren’t going to send him back to that hell.

Logan eventually felt Emile kneel beside him once again, a light touch on his back. Logan didn’t know how long he sat on the floor and cried, but he knew Emile never left him, and if it bothered Janus, he said nothing.

After sniffling a few times, Logan eventually formed a sentence. “What are you going to do with me then?”

Janus sighed and removed his hand to scratch his hair. He responded, “That’s completely up to you. Do you have any family you could escape to?”

Logan shook his head.

“No aunts or uncles or cousins or grandparents?”

Logan hesitated then shook his head.

“A friend? A good friend or a neighbor you could live with?”

Logan shook his head harder.

Janus cursed under his breath. “Give me something to work with here, kid. I’m not giving you over to child services.”

Logan’s head snapped up at that. He opened his mouth but closed it soon after.

“I could take him in.”

Both Janus and Logan turned their attention to Emile. Emile’s lips were pulled into a serious line, and he added, “You know I could easily take care of him, and I always wanted-”

“Absolutely not,” Janus replied. “I’m not getting him sucked into this life, and neither are you.”

“But he could live here and not work for the organization.”

The organization?

Janus sighed heavily. “No, Emile.”

“But-”

“I said no, and that’s a direct order! I’m not going to have a thirteen-year-old child running around this place.”

Logan could feel Emile’s shoulders shaking. He turned, and whether it was fear, rage, or holding in his sorrow, Emile was indeed shaking. His heart broke. With a steeled determination, Logan turned his head back to Janus.

“I want to stay with Emile.”

Janus rose a brow and snapped his attention to him. Emile sucked in a surprised breath behind him.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Janus asked.

“You said it was up to me. I want to stay here. With Emile.”

“No,” Janus answered again.

“Then how about a bet?” Logan asked. That seemed to pique Janus’s interest, and Logan responded, “If I win, I get to stay, but if you win, I leave. Deal?”

“Janus,” Emile hissed under his breath, but Janus’s rose hand stopped him from continuing.

“It’s a deal,” Janus replied, “but I pick the game.”

Logan looked ready to argue, but he nodded his head and said, “Deal.”

Janus’s lips curled up into a smile. He pulled a deck of cards from his desk and started to shuffle them. “Do you know the rules of poker?”

“I might,” Logan replied.

“Janus,” Emile warned again, but Janus’s cold glare stopped him once again.

“Good,” Janus responded. “One round. Whoever wins this game wins the bet. Got it?”

Logan nodded his head. Janus passed the deck of cards to Emile, who eyed Janus warily. He shuffled for what felt like forever, then passed out the cards to both Janus and Logan. The two players watched each other for any signs of victory, but both of them had excellent poker faces.

“So, you’re sure you still want the bet?” Janus asked.

“No distractions,” Logan responded.

“I’m not trying to distract you. I’m just wondering what you’re going to do if you lose.”

“I won’t lose.”

“If you say so.”

Janus watched Logan, and a grin crossed his face. He laid all five cards down on the floor. An ace, two, three, four, and five. All hearts. “Straight.”

Logan and Emile stared down at the cards. Emile’s shoulders sagged, and he leaned back. Logan watched Emile for a moment before he returned his gaze back to Janus.

“So, where do you want to go, kid?” Janus asked, his lip curled into a smirk.

Logan kept his face calm as he replied, “Here.”

“Oh, I do believe that wasn’t part of our bet,” Janus replied. “You lost.”

“Did I?”

Janus’s smile slowly slipped away from his face. Emile’s head turned to Logan, optimism rising in his eyes.

Logan laid his cards on the floor. A king, a queen, a jack, a ten, and an ace. All clubs. Janus’s lips floundered, and Emile let out a surprised, happy cry. Logan continued to keep his poker face as he proclaimed, “A royal flush.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Janus responded. He looked over at Emile, who held up his hands in surrender.

“I didn’t cheat, I swear.”

“No, I watched you the whole time,” Janus said with a sigh. He stood and walked back to his desk. “FIne, you get to keep the kid.”

Logan and Emile shared a look, Emile’s eyes tearing with relief as Logan sent a small but encouraging smile back. Emile grabbed onto his pants legs to keep himself from tackling Logan right then and there.

“Though Logan,” Janus replied, “While I do appreciate a good cheat here and there, the next time you want to hide cards up your sleeve, know that I’m not going to shoot you because you’re a kid, but I will make your life here unpleasant.”

Logan’s smile slowly slipped away. He glanced over at Emile, who sucked in his lip and bit the skin. 

“Come on, Logan. Let’s go find you a room so you don’t have to sleep in mine,” Emile said. He extended his hand down for Logan to take, but Logan passed it up. Emile retracted it and tried not to take offense. Logan shared one last look at Janus before the two men stepped out of the office.

For the whole trip toward the elevator, Emile and Logan didn’t say a word to each other. Logan kept stealing glances at Emile, but Emile looked too lost in thought to acknowledge him at the moment. 

The elevator doors dinged, and both Logan and Emile stepped inside. Emile pushed the button to the third floor, and the elevator began its descent. Logan thought long and hard about his next sentence. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“Something on your mind, kiddo?” Emile asked.

Logan hesitated before he questioned, “If he noticed it, why didn’t he call me on it?”

Emile’s smile didn’t leave his face. “Because I think deep down, Janus didn’t want you to leave.”

Logan accepted the answer. The doors opened, and Emile led Logan down the hallway. The numbers passed by in a numb blur. Eventually, Emile stopped at a room, 383, and unlocked it with a universal key.

The room was rather plain. A single bed with a white sheet sat in the corner, along with a nightstand. The floor had a squishy brown carpet with white speckles in it to hide the dirt or anything else that spilled on it. A television was propped up on the wall, and a computer stood on a desk against the far wall, complete with surround sound and a swivel chair.

“It’s not much, but we can make this place feel like a home in no time,” Emile said.

“It’s better than what I had.”

Emile's heart cracked a bit at that. He walked inside and put his hands on his hips. “Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit, kiddo?”

Logan nodded his head. 

Emile put the keys back into his pocket and showed Logan the lock on the back of the door. “Don’t worry. No one can lock you in.”

Logan nodded his head.

“You can go upstairs to the weight room any time you want. It’s on the second floor. Oh, and we have a pool on the first floor, but that’s only open when the lifeguard is on duty. The kitchen is open all night long, and everything is free, so don’t worry about paying for any food. There’s a library on floor 4, but that’s not open until around noon today, and it closes around 10 at night. The only place you shouldn’t go is either Janus’s office, unless it’s an emergency of course, or floor five. You need a special key to get down there anyway, but just a heads up, you won’t like it if you open it.”

“What’s on floor five?” Logan asked before he could stop himself.

Emile shook his head and chewed on his lip. “Some things are just better left alone, trust me.”

Logan wanted a true answer, but he accepted the passive one for now. Emile reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He handed it over to Logan.

“This has Remy’s number in it, as well as Janus and a few other people that can help you if you need it,” Emile explained. “There are a few games on it too, like solitaire and sudoku.”

Logan looked at the phone in his hands, which had some cartoon character on the back of it, and back up to Emile. “How do you know I’m not going to call the cops and turn you all in for kidnapping?”

“I don’t.”

Logan watched Emile for a moment, waiting for him to continue. The sad smile on Emile’s face suggested it happened before.

At last, Emile continued, “But I trust you.”

Logan couldn’t say anything to that. He watched Emile close the door, and true to his word, the lock never clicked shut. Logan, however, locked it just to make himself feel a little more secure. He still didn’t totally trust these people, but… but Emile seemed like a good person. And Janus was at least a sensible person from what he could tell. And even Remy, who he knew kidnapped him, didn’t make a move to hurt him.

Maybe… maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe he could even call this place… home.

* * *

Janus heard Emile’s signature knock. He sighed through his nose and called out “Enter.”

Emile opened the door, and he closed it soon after. Janus didn’t look up from his work, but he could tell by Emile’s failure to say anything, something was up. “You’re upset I let the kid win?”

“No,” Emile responded. He let out a long sigh. “I’m happy you did, but Janus, did he really cheat?”

“I don't know. I simply guessed,” Janus responded. “For all I knew, the kid got lucky. I just didn’t want him to think I got outsmarted by a thirteen-year-old.”

“Ah yes, your reputation,” Emile joked.

“That’s not the only thing on your mind, is it?”

“These people,” Emile said, “they’re going to pin it all on us. The abuse, the kidnapping, the world’s going to be against us. You’re not really thinking of exposing these people, are you?”

“As much as I would love to, I know I can’t,” Janus responded. “I’m better off just shooting them myself. Or, better yet, giving a gun to Logan so he can take revenge.”

“You really don’t think he would-”

“I don’t think so, no, but the choice would be his, and I think he should be the one to pull the trigger if we ever go down that road.”

“Janus, you’re letting a child become a killer.”

“No, I’m not. I’m giving him the power they took away from him. Either Logan is a killer, or he’s not. We all have the choice to murder, but what we do says more about us than what we want to do. You should know that more than any of us.”

Emile nodded his head. He let out a long sigh before he said, “Thanks, Janus, for giving Logan to me.”

“It was his choice. I didn’t do anything.” At that, Janus did look over his computer screen. “But I expect you to keep him out of trouble, got it?”

“Of course.”

“And he better not go to the fifth floor.”

“I already told him.”

“Good. Watch him. I have a feeling after a while rules aren’t going to hinder his curiosity, at least, if he’s anything like you it won’t.”

Emile did smirk at that. He put his hand on the door handle to leave.

“Oh, and Emile.”

Emile turned. Janus stood from behind his desk, his hands folded behind his back. His eyes barely peeked out from under the brim of his hat.

Janus continued, “Don’t think I’m about to let you adopt any kid that walks through those doors. I meant it when I said no more kids. Got it?”

Emile hesitated for a moment. He nodded his head before he replied, “Of course.”

With a light close of the door, Emile left Janus alone with his thoughts. Janus sighed and flipped a picture down on his desk. He walked over to the stairs, too tired from today’s events to continue being a crime boss for the day. Logan’s face kept appearing in his mind, but Janus chased it away every time.

“No more kids,” Janus whispered to himself in finality.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm totally cool with just heart comments, so don't worry if you have nothing to say! I'm thankful you even made it this far. If you'd like to keep up with me and my other works, you can find me on Tumblr @ altruistic-skittles
> 
> -Cat

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [When The Chips Are Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288051) by [Whiskey_With_Patron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskey_With_Patron/pseuds/Whiskey_With_Patron)




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